Page 4 of Loving Roman (The Summer Twins #3)
–alice–
My chest rises and falls rapidly with each breath of air I draw into my lungs, and my heart feels as though it’s going to beat its way out of my chest. Thanks to Roman, we swiftly glide through the water, taking no time at all to reach the shore.
We’ve barely stopped moving before he’s leaping out of our kayak, dragging it onto the sand, and heading for the boy who fell into the water.
For a big guy, he moves fluidly, his muscles shifting and moving beneath his T-shirt with ease.
I still can’t make sense of what happened.
The college kids were fooling around, shouting and laughing.
Then I heard a splash, a shout, and before I knew what was going on, Roman was tossing aside his life jacket and jumping into the water, almost tipping our kayak as he dropped over the edge and making my heart race with fear that I’d also fall in.
He didn’t pause for a moment. Not even our guide reacted as quickly as Roman did.
Roman flicks his brown hair out of his eyes, sending droplets of water flying around him as he falls to his knees near the boy. I gather my wits and climb out of the kayak, then grab my phone from our dry bag so I can call for an ambulance with shaky hands.
“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?”
I explain everything that’s happened and where we are, and the woman on the other end of the phone assures me an ambulance is on its way.
I stay on the line, explaining everything that’s happening while Roman turns the teenager on his side as water spurts out of the boy’s mouth, causing him to cough violently.
I glance around at the other teenagers and watch their shoulders sag with relief.
This could have turned out to be a tragic vacation for the group—one they’d remember for the rest of their lives for the wrong reasons.
One boy steps forward, pushing his fingers through his curly hair. “What the fuck, man? We thought you were dead.”
The boy on the beach tries to sit up, but Roman gently pushes on his shoulder to keep him prone. “Hang on. You need to be checked over. You could still drown.” The boy turns whiter than he already is, and his eyes widen with fear.
I notice a patch of blood on the back of his head, matting his blond hair. “Roman.” He looks up at me, and I point at the boy, moving closer as I do. “He’s bleeding.”
Roman leans over to study the wound. “That explains why he was unresponsive when I found him in the water.”
A siren sounds in the distance, growing louder by the second, and Brenton climbs to his feet to meet the paramedics so he can show them where we are to prevent any delays.
I let the dispatch officer know the ambulance has arrived and hang up.
By the time the paramedics have the boy loaded into the back of the ambulance, his friends have dispersed to follow him to the local hospital, leaving Roman, Brenton, and me to collect and store the kayaks.
“I’m really sorry our tour got cut short,” Brenton apologizes for the fifth time.
Both Roman and I wave him off. “Things happen. ”
“At least let me refund your money or book you on the tour for another day,” he offers.
I glance at Roman to see what he wants to do, though I don’t know why I’m deferring to him for guidance. It was a coincidence that we were on this tour together and sharing a kayak.
He looks at me and shrugs. “Do you have time to do this again?”
Butterflies erupt in my stomach that he would like to see me again after I blew him off this morning. But after watching him take charge, I feel more comfortable spending time with him. “Sure. I’d like that.”
His smile is quick to form, changing the shape of his face as his cheeks rise. “Great.”
We follow Brenton inside and book ourselves on another tour in two days, then head back outside. As we breach the doorway, I shield my eyes from the sun and peer up at Roman, who’s a good head and shoulders taller than me. “Thank you.”
He tilts his head to the side, and his eyebrows draw together as he looks down at me. “What for?”
“For saving that boy’s life. You ensured his family never has to experience the heart-wrenching devastation of burying a loved one.” My heart fractures as the reminder of what such devastation feels like washes over me.
Roman’s cheeks turn pink as he shrugs off my thanks.
“It was nothing.” He grips the back of his neck, making his bicep bulge beneath his T-shirt, and my eyes drink in the action with appreciation.
I’ve always had a fascination with a man’s arms. They can be so sexy. “Anyone would have done the same.”
“But they didn’t, and you reacted so fast. It may have been too late by the time everyone else realized what was happening.” I squeeze his firm forearm to make my point. “You were heroic in your actions.”
“Now, you’re getting carried away. ”
“I don’t think I am, but I’ll drop it because you seem uncomfortable.” Most men would puff out their chests and accept the praise, but not Roman. It makes me wonder who he really is at his core.
He smiles at me. A blinding white grin that almost makes my knees wobble. “You could always agree to have lunch with me to show your appreciation,” he suggests with eyebrows raised in expectation.
A surprised chuckle puffs over my lips. “Wow. Way to take advantage of the situation.” I jest, then look back up at him. “But I think I’d like that.”
Using the paper napkin, I wipe my mouth, then press my hands to my stomach with a sigh. “That was delicious.” Dropping the dirty paper alongside my cutlery on my plate, I take a drink of water. “I’m going to need to walk off some of those carbs.”
“I was thinking of hiking up to the lighthouse this afternoon to take some photos. Would you like to join me?” Roman asks as he stacks our plates, carefully placing the cutlery and napkins on top.
Lunch has been delightful. We’ve agreed to share only our first names and to keep our conversation in the present, rather than share too much personal information. I have no idea where he lives or what kind of work he does, and he is equally in the dark about me.
It’s almost … freeing .
We have no expectations, and we’re not sharing anything too deep. However, I now know he loves Italian food because his mother is Italian. He grew up in his nonna’s kitchen, and he knows I have an adult son and daughter-in-law .
I sit forward and glance out of the window. “I’d love to. I was going to explore the lighthouse while I was here.”
“I just need to grab my camera.”
“Me too.” We smile at each other. It seems that even though we’ve decided against sharing personal details, we’ve found something we have in common.
Because he’s a gentleman, he offers to walk me to the inn where I’m staying.
“Hey, this is where I’m staying. I had a feeling when we walked in this direction that we were staying at the same place.
” He grins down at me. “I’m on the third floor with a view across the bay we were kayaking in this morning. ”
“I’m on the second floor with the same view.” My heart gallops at the coincidence.
My shoulder brushes his arm, sending tingles racing through my body as we enter the lobby and head toward the elevator. “I’ll meet you back here. Make sure you put on more sunscreen,” Roman reminds me.
“Sure will. I burn so easily; it’s a habit for me.”
His chocolate gaze traces over my face, like he’s cataloging my features, but then his eyes drop to my lips before snapping away. Normally, I’d feel uncomfortable when someone is observing me so closely, but the way he looks at me makes me feel seen, and I’ve decided I like having his gaze on me.
He holds the elevator door open for me when we reach my floor and, with a wink, he reminds me we’ll meet downstairs in ten minutes. I hurry to my room and lean against the door as soon as it closes with a stupid grin plastered across my face.
This vacation has suddenly become a whole lot more interesting, and I’m wishing I’d brought some matching lacy underwear sets because, for the first time in a long time, I want to get naked with a man.
Then I remember my muffin top and the extra roll of fat across my back, which seems to have shown up overnight, as well as the cellulite on my thighs, and my grin falls .
Screwing up my nose, I push away from the door and head to the bathroom.
As I put on a fresh layer of sunscreen, I study my reflection.
I wonder what he sees when he looks at me.
I could have sworn I saw desire in his expression when he was studying me, but I’m so out of practice with the opposite sex, I probably misread the signs.
I do my business and wash my hands, grab my hat and camera, and head back downstairs to find Roman already waiting for me. His eyes light up when he spots me stepping out of the elevator and maybe, just maybe, I wasn’t mistaken by what I saw.